Chapter Four

IRIS’S POV

“Good morning, sister in law.”

His  words hit me like ice water. I stood frozen in the entrance of the dining area, staring at the man seated comfortably beside Ambrose. 

His voice… that deep, controlled tone. I knew it instantly. 

It was the same voice that had whispered filthy things in my ear last night while he was buried deep inside me.

Ambrose looked up from his coffee, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me. “Iris, you’re back. This is Lucien Dupont. My younger adoptive brother, he just returned to New York after years handling business overseas.”

Lucien leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes locked onto mine with a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Its a pleasure to finally meet you properly, Iris.”

I nearly lost my balance. My heart almost escaped my ribs as the memories of last night flooded back—his hands gripping my hips, his thick cock stretching my pussy, the way he groaned my name when he came inside me. 

And here he was, acting like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t fucked me senseless just hours ago.

I forced my legs to move and sat down at the table, my hands trembled slightly as I reached for a glass of water. “I… didn’t know you had a brother coming back.”

Lucien’s gaze never left me. “I’ve been away a long time. But I’ve heard so much about you.”

Throughout breakfast, he tormented me with subtle jabs posed as mere  dialogue that only I could fully understand.

“You look a little flushed this morning, sister in law,” Lucien said casually, passing me the fruit platter. His fingers brushed against mine deliberately. “Rough night? You seem like the type who doesn’t get much sleep lately.”

I swallowed hard, my face was already turning as red as a tomato . “It was… eventful.”

He smiled slightly, poking into his eggs. “Some women bloom when they finally receive proper attention. Others stay starving for years, waiting for scraps. It’s quite sad to watch, don’t you think?”

Ambrose was focused on his phone, scrolling through emails, completely oblivious to the tension brewing between us. 

But every word from Lucien felt like a secret touch.

Lucien continued in a smooth unbothered voice.“Tell me, Iris, how does a woman as beautiful as you stay so… neglected? A husband should worship a body like yours. Touch it. Claim it. Not leave it aching for more.”

I nearly dropped my fork. I pressed my  thighs  together under the table as memories of his cock pounding into me flashed through my mind.

Vivienne entered the dining room moments later, her expression turned sour the second she saw Lucien. “Lucien. I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us so soon.”

“Mother,” Lucien greeted her with a mocking edge in his voice. “Missed me?”

She sat down stiffly, shooting him a cold glare. “Try not to create unnecessary problems while you’re in New York. The family doesn’t need more scandals right now.”

Lucien chuckled lowly, but his eyes moved back to mine. “Scandals seem to find this family whether I’m here or not.”

The conversation stayed surface-level after that, but the undercurrent of family tension was obvious. 

Vivienne clearly couldn’t stand him, and Lucien didn’t seem to care. 

He kept making small comments directed at me—about how some women deserved better attention, how neglect could make a person desperate. 

I barely touched my food.

Later that afternoon, I tried my best to avoid him. I stayed in the living room, then moved to the library, but Lucien was everywhere. 

Eventually, he cornered me in one of the long penthouse hallways, away from the staff and Ambrose.

I pressed my back against the wall as he stepped close, his tall frame blocked any path of easy escape for me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed, keeping my voice low.

He tilted his head, that dangerous smirk returning. “Enjoying the view.”

“You planned it, didn’t you?” My voice shook with anger and disbelief. “Last night at the gala. You followed me into that suite on purpose.”

Lucien didn’t deny it. 

He stepped even closer until I could smell his cologne—the same scent that had been all over my body this morning. “I recognized you the second you walked into the ballroom, Iris. The moment you entered that suite, I knew exactly who you were.”

Horror washed over me. “You… you knew I was Ambrose’s wife and you still—”

“I still fucked you,” he finished calmly, dropping his voice lower. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

I stared at him, speechless. There wasn’t a single trace of guilt on his face, only unfiltered hunger.

Before I could find words, he leaned in, his breath was on my ear. “Ambrose has never looked at you the way I do and he never will.”

The comment shook me to my core. I pushed past him quickly as I escaped down the hallway. 

His words stayed with me for the rest of the day, going  deeper in my mind than they should have.

Ambrose, for his part, started noticing. 

During a brief moment in the evening when we were all in the same room, I caught him watching Lucien and me with a deep frown. 

For the first time in years, he seemed bothered by another man’s attention on his wife. He kept glancing between us, his face was tensed but he said nothing.

That night, I stood in our bedroom changing out of my clothes. 

As I slipped off my robe, I caught my reflection in the mirror and froze. 

I had bruises. Dark marks littered across my neck, my breasts, and my inner thighs.

Clear evidence of how roughly the masked man had fucked me last night. How roughly Lucien had fucked me last night.

I traced one on my hip with my fingers, remembering how hard he had gripped me while pounding into my pussy.

A soft knock sounded on the bedroom door and I held my breath for a minute.

Lucien’s voice came through the door.. “You missed dinner, Iris.”